


Bittersweet Goodbye

by splatteredwingsofink



Category: MASH (1970)
Genre: M/M, movie!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:26:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splatteredwingsofink/pseuds/splatteredwingsofink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dago Red has always been shy, unsure and generally unappreciated. I don't think he's ever cared but I see the way people push him aside like he's just another body in the operating room, they nod like they care then leave him standing alone save for his tiny bible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously love MASH, especially the TV show but when I wrote this for some reason I wrote the movie!verse/book!verse versions of the characters.

Dago Red has always been shy, unsure and generally unappreciated. I don't think he's ever cared but I see the way people push him aside like he's just another body in the operating room, they nod like they care then leave him standing alone save for his tiny bible. I've done it myself and I hate to think that I've hurt the priest but it's unintentional. He's just so easy to forget. He just blends into the surroundings. 

I've often wondered how he might react if someone actually stopped for two minutes and genuinely engaged him in a conversation. A lot of the time I assume he'd respond normally, but then I remember how neglected Dago is and I know it wouldn't be that way. It saddens me but I don't dwell on it, instead I drink to ignore him, I drink to forget that nagging urge clawing from my loins, the one that yowls so loudly that I think he'll hear it's need when we pass in the compound. I'm thankful every time he bows his head and buries his nose in that dwarfed book of his when I'm near. 

Many times I contemplate why he does that, perhaps he doesn't want to talk to me, maybe he hates me. I push those troubling thoughts away too much. I don't understand, I can't think of Dago without feeling a subtle desire which in turn makes me feel slightly sick. Over time I eventually decide it's an illness, but I don't know what. That troubles me. I'm a doctor, I should know these things. 

As the months drag on I find myself avoiding the priest. When he emerges from the Mess Tent or post-op, I steer clear, giving him a wide birth. Still the thing inside me screams with rage at my restraint. It cries for him, for Dago's untouched skin and dark blue eyes. Like a fire I smother it till it's nothing but coals shimmering red. I watch him pass, slender and sure, intently reading his bible as usual. He walks right in front of the Swamp and then he stops. 

"Hawkeye," he says and I blink, staring at him past the rim of my martini glass. 

"Yeah, babe?" I ask and I mentally cringe as he steps toward me, drawing closer. The beast within growls and I begin to feel my restraint abandoning me. 

"I'm just going to get to the point," he murmurs quietly, going from rather bold to timid. "Have you been avoiding me?"

I almost groan out loud. I take a sip of my martini and shake my head. 

"No, of course not Dago, why would I be avoiding you?" 

"I-I'm not sure," he sighs and I watch with interest as he flips some more pages of his bible, the tiny book is so worn it looks as though it might fall apart. 

"Well don't worry, babe," I offer him a smile and press my round glasses higher on my nose. 

"Oh, all right Hawkeye," he accepts then continues on his way. I watch his leave, my eyes trace the slight curve of his hips. 

The rest of my months in Korea are spread out between surgery, drinking and making fun of Hot Lips Houlihan. I hardly see Dago these days, though a lot of the time he's in the O.R. getting bullied by Duke or being ignored despite his good intentions. I feel as though my days are growing sparse and I've no explanation as to why. 

A few days later I'm granted a two day leave to Seoul. At the end of my trip I make a special purchase then load my bags onto the jeep that's been sent for me and head home to the 4077th. 

My arrival back is a quiet affair. Trapper is sleeping, Duke is in the Officers Club, or maybe in Hot Lip's tent, Henry is busy doing rounds in post-op. Dago is no where to be seen. I assume he is in his tent praying, or sleeping, or maybe writing something for Sunday Mass. Either way I'm thankful of his absence. 

I make my way to the Swamp and quickly settle down on my cot. I fall asleep almost immediately. 

I wake to the sound of Trapper shuffling around. I sigh and turn over, burying my face in scratchy army blankets. I wait for Trapper to leave. When he's gone I slowly sit up and stretch before taking a sip of someones martini from last night. Then I get up and head for the Mess Tent. 

A few more weeks pass and I'm in the process of going to the O.R. when a jeep pulls into the compound. Seeing Radar no where in sight I head over. The man in it asks for a Captain Pierce and Captain MacIntyre. He hands me two sets of paper and I open mine. I'm expecting a court martial order or something like that. Not the state side orders printed on that glorious army paper. I almost scream in joy.

Smiling at the man I run off to find Trapper. 

After delivering the good news I hurriedly pack my things together and put them on the jeep. I say goodbye to Henry, Hot Lips, Duke, Radar and even Frank. But I can't find Dago. 

Racing around the compound I look for that familiar nose-in-book priest. At last I find him reading near his tent. I approach. 

"Hawkeye," he greets and I can't help but smile. 

"Babe," I reply, he chuckles and for the first time ever sets his bible down. 

"What can I do for you?" 

"Well," I murmur. "I'm leaving!"

I can see the shock on his face but his smile overwhelms the sadness in his eyes. 

"That's wonderful Hawkeye," he says and stands. I nod.

"It is Dago, I just wanted to say goodbye."

I step closer to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. The monster within me laying dormant cries tiredly. I bury my face in his shoulder and breath in deeply. 

"I'm going to miss you Dago Red," I sigh and he nods against me. 

"I'll miss you too Hawk." It's right now that I wish I had spent more time with him. I almost groan as my manhood tightens at our proximity. I pull back some and reach behind my back to pull a small package from the waist of my pants. 

I present the little box to Dago with a smile. 

"You need a new one," I say and when he takes it with two hands I lean in a press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "See you state side, Dago." I say and depart without even seeing him open the package. As I get into the jeep I lean back in the seat and watch Korea pass me by. 

I imagine Dago opening the little box and with soft, delicate fingers pulling out a brand new leather bound bible.


End file.
